


More than true

by AgrippaSpoleto



Series: Agrippa's collected fairy tales [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Distant Voices, Episode Related, Fairy Tale Retellings, Kid Fic, M/M, Sleeping Beauty Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 19:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgrippaSpoleto/pseuds/AgrippaSpoleto
Summary: "There was once a beautiful prince. He was respected by many and beloved by few. Some say he was an acquired taste. They were not wrong but once you acquired it you could not escape his charms.”“That is a weird story, baba.”It is not easy being a parent to three children. Especially if your co-parent is Elim Garak. And now the infuriating lizard is away for the evening and Julian spontaneously has to pull a good night story out of his ... behind.





	More than true

**Author's Note:**

> “Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”  
Neil Gaiman

It is never easy to tell the time of day on a space station. Especially if we talk about a Federation-Cardassian station. In the end only the close observation of the people living on Perr Nor or Deep Space 13 - situated in the area formerly known as the Demilitarized Zone - could tell you it was evening. Why? The ruffling of blankets and quiet voices coming out of a bedroom tell us it’s bedtime. At least for these three children.

“So, we're set. Something is still missing though.” Julian Bashir looked into three expectant faces. “Do you have your riding hound, Dalor?”

The youngest of the three children, a Cardassian hatchling, nodded and started waiving the plushie in question.

“A story, baba. Yad' always tells us one before we have to go to sleep.”, said the six year old Orion boy sitting next to his twin sister and rolled his eyes at the Human doctor.

“Is that so, Fehad?” Julian raised his eyebrows at his son.

Three little heads started nodding simultaneously and he had to smile at their antics.

“Very well, then, a story it is. Give me a sec. Ah, yes, now I know. There was once a beautiful prince. He was respected by many and beloved by few. Some say he was an acquired taste. They were not wrong but once you acquired it you could not escape his charms.”

“That is a weird story, baba.” Esme, Fehad ’s twin sister said with a suspicious glint in her eyes. How an Orion girl could look even more Cardassian than his Cardassian offspring was beyond Julian. But then on the other hand, they did spend a lot of time with Garak on a Cardassian space station. 

The doctor narrowed his eyes at his daughter.

“Oh, really? Well, I'm telling the story, so I say how it goes, pumpkin. Where was I? Ah, yes. The prince.”

But he didn’t come far with his tale as Dalor interrupted him by pulling at his uniform. He turned his head to the hatchling so they could sign their question to him. Their parents had been hurt in the Dominion war and  they  had been born with an impaired hearing. They never took to hearing aids or vocal communication but they could talk everyone’s ear off with their hands and read lips in an astonishing accuracy. Julian and Garak had made sure that all of their children could speak Galactic sign language, GSL for short, as well as the Kardassi equivalent.

“Did the prince have a name?” 

“Certainly. He was called Iriosrha[1],, because he knew the ways of the bones and sicknesses. Some say he often was found at the fringes of their city assisting the poorest of poor who nobody else cared for. Had done so since he saw the inequality of the world for what it was.

But the prince's parents didn't like that he wasted - their words not mine - his talents and strength on the poor. They expected him to marry and continue the line of their dynasty into the ever after. Our prince wasn't opposed to marriage but he just couldn't find someone he wanted to spend his life with. And some, he found, didn't want to spend theirs with him. 

He had a good friend though, there in the outskirts of his city. They often met for lunch and talked about literature and his friend's land. For his friend was from another part of the world, with very different customs and people. For his friend was a dragon.

People called him  V’rutpris [2] and accused him of dark magic and evil deeds. Mostly they accused him of being a dragon. But  V’rutpris was just a plain and simple tailor.”

“How can a dragon tailor something, his claws would destroy everything.” This time the interruption came from Esme. Dalor hit her with their riding hound and signed vehemently:

“Stop interrupting, I want to hear the story.”

“But it doesn't make sense.” signed the Orion girl back.

Julian narrowed his eyes at them and underlined his next words with the Kardassi second tongue, which consisted of sign s and body language to convey further meaning to one’s words.

“Stop it, or I’ll stop telling the story.”

They stopped arguing immediately and sat back, smiling Garak’s most fake innocent smile at him. The doctor shook his head fondly and continued with his story.

“Well, I say this dragon is a tailor, that means he can sew with his claws. But funny you should mention it, since many people mistrusted him and didn’t believe he was just a plain and simple tailor. For he weaved secrets and mysteries just as well as he yielded needle and thread.

So now it was the prince's 30th birthday and despite his best efforts he still had no spouse. Not that one needs a spouse to be happy or wholesome. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.

The prince was scared because he knew his parents would be angry. So he went to see his friend the tailor who helped him forget his peril. Who reminded him that 30 was not very old yet. That he shouldn't give up on life yet. It was then that the tailor gave the prince a book for the first time.”

All three children gasped at that. 

Obviously Garak was more open with them about Cardassian courting practices than with him. No wonder it had taken them so long to come together. But it didn’t really surprise Julian. Garak was a lot happier and open now that they lived on a space station under Cardassian jurisdiction. And since the Dominion war Cardassian society had changed a lot. There finally was a new – more democratic – form of government in place and the treaty with the Federation was built on more than just a tiredness of war. 

Julian had been surprised when Garak had agreed quite readily to adopt the Orion twins. But then he had been crucial in saving them from the Orion syndicate and had already bonded with them. Garak exposed them to Cardassian culture as much as he could get away with, while Julian tried to at least maintain a connection to their birth culture  as well as his own . 

“Now the prince, he didn't know that this was a courting gift in the dragon's land. He was just happy that his friend knew what he liked as a present instead of overwhelming him with gold and other riches that didn't mean anything other than the oppression of other people.

With a spring in his step he returned to his castle finally ready to face the wrath of his parents when he crossed paths with a telepath. Little did he know that man could tap into people’s minds and steal their secrets. And the prince had a very valuable secret indeed. A secret that could've brought the kingdom to shambles.

He felt the attack more than he saw it. Pain exploded behind his temples and he lost consciousness. When the prince woke up again, he was still lying in the street but nobody could be seen in the vicinity. It felt to  Iriosrha  like an eternal night with no star in the sky lighting the way. After what felt like an eternity of feeling his way forward he spotted a light in a familiar house. It was the building were his friend the plain and simple tailor lived. Never before had the prince felt more relieved. Together they would be able to unravel the mysterious occurrence.

As a dragon the tailor could breathe fire and armed with torches the prince was finally able to see properly again. 

In the yonder they saw the royal palace. With no other potential destination they decided to walk to towards it, also hoping that their situation would become clearer.

As the two friends arrived at the castle the gates were wide open and no guard could be seen. Carefully they made their way into the main building. Inside there were only a few candles lit which made the place even more intimidating as it already was in full daylight. Still there seemed no soul in sight.

So the prince and the tailor decided to split up to cover more ground.

“NO!”, wailed Esme. “How stupid are they?”

Dalor and Fehad shushed her and Julian continued (even if he silently agreed with her).

“As the prince tried to find anyone in a palace that normally housed a few hundred people, he felt his heart grow heavier and his steps started to waver. After a while he found his way into the private chambers of the royal family. There stood the master of the guard, muttering to himself. When the prince tried to talk to the normally calm and collected man, he was surprised by his paranoiac behaviour. The man didn't believe that he was talking to prince and he threatened him, and before Iriosrha knew what was happening, he was running away again. But the endurance of the day started to take its toll. The prince started to tire and he found it difficult to breathe. Luckily the prince knew his home better than most and he managed to escape into a secret pathway that led into his own room.

As he turned around the corner he found his bed chamber and what he saw made his blood freeze. There in the bed laid he himself and around him stood his parents, Jabara, the Royal physician and Jadzia, the wise woman who helped with the castle wards and other scientific pursuits.

They talked over his motionless body. How he wasn't waking up, trapped in a magical sleep.

The prince screamed at them that he was awake, but they seemed not to hear him at all.

"What are you screaming at, my prince?", called a familiar soft voice.

The prince turned and there stood the tailor.

"Can't you hear what they are saying?"

At the confusion  on the dragon’s face he turned again but there weren't any people anymore.

The prince grabbed his own hair.

"I'm going mad!"

"Calm yourself, my dear."

The dragon had walked up to the prince and put his hands on his shoulders only to stare at him in surprise.

"My prince, what is happening to you?"

"What do you mean?"

His friend seemed to trace random lines on his faces.

"You have aged, my dear. Unnaturally so."

The prince’s eyes widened drastically and he practically ran to the next mirror. His friend had spoken the truth. Grey was striking through his dark locks and age lines covered his face. He gaped at his mirror image in terror.

"This is impossible! What is happening to me?"

"How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?", said the tailor with his head laid to the side. Something prickled at the prince’s skull, a small voice calling for vigilance but in his shock he wasn’t ready to listen.

The prince could only agree with the tailor’s words and accept the truth he saw with his own eyes. After a few calming he decided not to give up so easily. He crossed the room and opened another hidden door.

"A secret passage way. How intriguing." said the dragon with a hint of pride.

"I have lived in this palace my whole life. No one knows these rooms as I do."

Together they made their way into the library where the prince hoped to find some answers. But as they arrived there he realised very fast that this wasn't the palace library. It was the library how the prince wished it was.

In the middle of the room stood a table and on it laid a book and a chalice which harboured a flame. It burned hot and red, but when the prince touched it he felt neither heat nor pain. Only kinship. But what really got to him was the book. For it was the book his friend had given him for his birthday.

"Now my dear prince. Finally, you've decided to trust me. What secret holds this room?"

At this moment the prince realised several things. All this, the library, the palace was not real. Nobody knew how he imagined his perfect library. No, he was trapped in a palace in his own mind.

And that man was not his tailor.

Meanwhile in another world, maybe another universe outside the prince’s imagination, a scene played out that we’ve already encountered in snippets of ghostly creatures and half spoken sentences. Four people stood around the bed on which laid the motionless body of our prince. Jabara, the royal physician, had just declared that she did not know what had caused the deep slumber the royal son seemed to be trapped in. 

Jadzia, the wise woman, who had examined the body as well said: “He’s trapped somewhere. His mind is lost from our realm. He needs an anchor, something to rip him back into reality, the here and now.”

The queen took the prince’s hand and gently caressed it.

“But what would have such power over him? He seems to care for nothing but the poor and sick.”

The king huffed while his wife sent him a dirty look. Jadzia rolled her eyes to the heavens and prayed to the gods for strength. She was going to need it.

“He has a very good friend, someone he trusts even though he knows he shouldn’t. Someone whose life he saved and who now owes him a life debt.”

The queen grabbed her arm. 

“Who is that person? Bring them here immediately!”

Jadzia steeled herself and said with conviction:

“It’s V’rutpris, the dragon tailor.” 

The silence that fell on the room after those words was suffocating. The royal couple stood there with open mouths and if the situation hadn’t been as dire as it was Jadzia would’ve laughed. As they both found their voices again, there was nothing to laugh about anymore. Their resounding “NO! NEVER!” echoed off the walls of the prince’s bedchamber.

At the same time the prince – still standing in his imaginary library – was staring at the objects on the table. Without looking up he said to the image of this tailor: “But my secrets lay open here. Don't you see them?”

And some secrets were so secret that even the prince himself hadn't realised what he carried in his heart. He gently caressed the title of the book on the table. “But you can't, can you? You need me to give them to you, don't you?”

He looked up and before him stood not his friend but a stranger with burgundy skin and little bony horns in his face. "Very good, princeling. You've seen through me."

They stared at each other for several moments silently. No sound except the crackling of the flames.

"What now?" asked the prince fingering the book.

"Well, you can't escape! You can run if you want to but you can't outrun death!" The intruders voice boomed through the room. But in the echo the prince heard another soft and – oh so– familiar voice.

_ Please don't leave me... _

The prince just laughed. And then suddenly stopped and opened the book with a surprisingly steady hand as he had aged even more now. But it didn’t matter. He knew what he had to do.

Outside the prince’s mind, the tailor had finally been brought forward to his friend’s bedside. The royal parents were recoiling from his dragon ancestry but the wise woman’s words had reached their ears. Exploiting their hopelessness, Jadzia had managed to convince them to leave the tailor with their son. As they left the chamber the wise woman whispered into the dragon’s ear.

“You better bring him back or I won’t be able to stop their wrath condemning you.” 

The tailor seemed unmoved by her words but she could see the despair over his friend’s fate clearly in his eyes. She knew then she had made the right choice.

As soon as V’rutpris was alone with the prince he gripped his hand and wept. But as he held the hand at his forehead, he felt a warmth that hadn’t been there before. A warmth much stronger than what any other unscaled being had ever emitted in these parts of the world. Feeling the fight in his friend’s soul and bones the dragon leaned closer and spoke into the Human’s ears.

“Please come back to me, my dear prince. The world is cold without the warmth of your soul.”

And then, remembering the wise woman’s words, he bowed forward and touched his lips to the prince’s. It didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in sentiment or true love’s kiss because in this moment the tailor could only feel one thing – honest and true from deepest crevices of his heart. He felt a tremor travelling through the lithe body before him and the prince’s lips started to move. They spoke quietly but with an eerie vehemence.

_I call to the gods old and wise, young and reckless, to the tricksters and the fools_

_Do cleanse the Earth of THIS one who has brought evil harm onto my mind_

_Who dared to seek what only you know and only you will protect_

_Do not allow them to stand or sit, to drink or eat,_

_Nor allow them health or sleep_

_Drive them to the greatest death_

_Unless they redeem from you what they have administered to me._

The dragon recognised the words. It was an ancient prayer, invoked by Torun the weaver, who wove spells for the gods, envied in all lands for her skills. A ward spell used as attack magic - a very clever literary choice by Tlachim, the traitorous poet. Only found in the story he had gifted to the prince this very morning. 

The prince’s eyes were flattering and under their lids  V’rutpris could see flames burning. 

And the flames grew bigger and bigger, without ever burning the structure of the prince’s mind, but cleansing his realm of the evil spirit who had crossed boundaries no one should ever cross.

The dragon’s wish had been granted for the prince opened his eyes fully and his lips turned into a beaming smile.

“Hezempris.[3] You’re here.”

“That is not my name, my dear prince.” The dragon – still holding on to the prince’s hand – shook his head fondly. 

“It should be, for you saved me.”

The prince touched his friends eye ridges and smiled.

“Will you do it again?”

Confusion clouded the tailor’s features.

“Of course, I’ll always save you, my prince.”

The prince gave an exasperated huff and grabbed the tailor’s face.

“Not that. I was talking about you kissing me.”

And now even the dragon laughed and kissed his prince as many times as they cared for.”

The happy squee that escaped Fehad didn’t only hurt Julian’s ear drums if Esme’s face was anything to go by. Dalor just laughed at their expressions. 

“Do the prince and the tailor get married now?”, asked Fehad excitedly.

“No, one should never get married after just one kiss.”, Julian tried to answer, not sure himself where the story should end yet, but Esme was already hitting her brother with her pillow.

“Don't be stupid, he doesn't even know the prince's secret yet. Neither do we, by the way.” She punctuated her second sentence with a pillow attack towards her father.

“Esme. Stop.” He grabbed her pillow and put it back behind her head. 

“It's time to sleep now for all of you.”

“But, Baba, the story is not finished yet.”, signed Dalor, emphasising the ‘not finished’ with second tongue, even though he was speaking in GSL. The doctor picked him up and laid him into his own bed. 

“It is finished, for now. There are more stories to tell for other cold evenings.”

“You promise?”, asked Esme and Fehad in perfect synchrony.

Julian ushered Esme and her pillow into her bed and kissed her on the forehead. 

“I promise. Good night, my loves.”

He stood up and walked to door. There he turned again and smiled at his children, softly and full of the love he felt for them.

“Computer, lights out. Sweet dreams.”

***

The next evening Garak already returned from his errand on Trill. Not that he had told Julian or the kids what he had done there. Better even he had told any of them a different story and his family had yet to figure out what he had wanted to tell them through his fabrications. 

Julian was still busy cleaning up the rest of their dinner giving Garak and the kids a few moments alone. 

“Julian, dear, light of my life, could you please come here?”

The voice of his Cardassian partner sounded sugar sweet and the doctor was not sure if that meant good things. He walked over and saw the kids all sitting on Dalor’s bed. Garak stood in the middle of the children’s room with his hands on his hips.

“What are you telling our children? Dragons, magic? What is the morale? And this is not how the attack of the Lethean happened at all, by the way.”

The last part had been directed to the children who seemed to be barely able to contain their giggles. Julian rolled his eyes. As if the infuriating lizard didn’t tell them fantastical stories about riding hounds and old Hebitian gods at all.

“Fairy tales are a long standing tradition on earth. Not everything is supposed to be a Cardassian morale tale. Besides they (and me) missed you and I wanted to keep you close to us.”

At that Garak’s feature’s became a bit softer and he drifted closer to Julian.

“Still no reason to tell such sentimental drivel to small impressionable minds.”, he hissed. They were standing much closer now. When had that happened? Even though it probably was time to relocate this ‘argument’ outside the kid’s room Julian couldn‘t bite back another quip.

“Still better than telling them Romeo and Juliet as an example of why children should not rebel against their parents.”

"Argh, yad', baba. Stop flirting in front of us. It's gross." Esme had put her pillow on her head and groaned loudly.

"I think it's romantic.", Fehad on the other hand practically cooed. 

"You're stupid, anyways." grumbled his sister, her words muffled by her pillow. Fehad just laughed at her.

Garak looked to his partner, silently communicating 'look what you did' at him.

Julian just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. 

“You started it.”

Dalor just signed in GSL, “We love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1 Doctor in Kardasi. Yes, Julian is not good at inventing names on the spot...[return to text]  
2 Diseased eye, which I translate to "evil" eye, in Kardasi. [return to text]  
3 Loyal eye in Kardasi.[return to text]
> 
> There will probably be a second chapter at some point with the other story hidden in this one. I just have no idea when my brain decides it's time to release the dragon...
> 
> The poems is set together using various Roman curse tablets. If you don't know the phenomenon, google it or scream at me on tumblr (same name). Roman curse tablets are awesome.
> 
> The Cardassian language bits all come from https://cardassianlanguage.tumblr.com/ and the pdf document tinsnip and Vyc put together. Thank you so much for all your work and dedication.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. Kudos and comments are much appreciated.


End file.
